Russian Checkers
by Fictalia
Summary: Alfred loses a bet with some rather surprising results.


"No!" Chips flew. A white and black checked board followed. And a defeated, livid blond American stood, panting and flushed with anger, glaring at the rather smug-looking Russian seated calmly across from him.

"No," Alfred repeated, a bit softer this time. "You cheated."

Ivan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk set on his lips. "Cheated?" he repeated, trying to sound surprised, in his thick Russian accent.

Pounding his fists back on the table again so the remaining red and black chips shuddered, Alfred shouted, "Yes, cheated! I don't even know how to play Russian Checkers, you should have explained all the rules!"

"Perhaps you should have asked all the rules before playing, da?" Ivan suggested as he grabbed the box and began to sweep all of the chips back into it.

For a moment Alfred seemed panicked. Maybe Ivan forgot about their agreement? He decided that if he helped pick up the chips he'd knocked over in his anger their little bargain would be forgotten and behind them. And he wouldn't have anything to worry about. However, when he leaned down to pick up a few of the last chips, he felt a large body press against his bottom, then slide a hand down his arm until they were back-to-chest leaning over. "What are you doing?" Alfred demanded, trying to keep the fear from his voice.

Alfred could hear the smirk in Ivan's voice as he murmured in his ear, "Beginning to claim my prize."

With a grunt, Alfred elbowed the taller man off him then turned and glared up at Ivan, who had raised his gloved hands in mock-surrender with a small chuckle. "Your prize?" he snapped. "I know we had an agreement but can you wait just a minute? We just finished the game, and like I said, you cheated!"

"Ah ah ah!" Ivan tutted, but he held his hands up in surrender and smiled sweetly down at his American companion. "We made a deal, comrade." Before Alfred knew what hit him, Ivan had his upper arm in a tight grip and pulled him close enough to breathe in his ear, "Are you telling me that Americans are liars?"

A growl was elicited from Alfred's throat. Then a small groan. "Yeah, you're right," he murmured. "A deal is a deal."

Ivan smiled and reluctantly let Alfred go. "It won't be so bad," he answered, turning around so quickly his scarf fluttered behind him. "Meet me back at my mansion tomorrow at noon. No later." And with that he left the room.

Around two the next day, Raivis, Eduard and Toris sat together on the couch in the living room at the Soviet mansion, watching a movie together. "So where do you think he is now?" Eduard asked, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

"I don't care where he is, but he'd better come back here quick," Toris answered, a small pout setting on his lips. "We sent him fifteen minutes ago."

Their eyes all snapped to the doorway as Ivan entered with a grin. "I brought vodka and cola, da?" he greeted, holding up four glass bottles. He tossed the sodas to Eduard and Toris then settled down next to Raivis and handed him the second bottle of vodka.

As the little one opened his bottle and began to happily drink, Toris leaned forward and frowned at their boss. "Is that safe?" he questioned.

Shrugging, Ivan answered, "He can drink me under the table, da?" After taking a long swig of his own - the warmth of the liquor filled his belly and erected a small, happy sound from the large Russian's lips - Ivan seemed to realize something. "Where is our guest?" he asked, looking around the back of the couch as though he were hiding there.

"Heeeere," a reluctant, angry voice growled from the doorway.

Alfred stood, shoulders slumped and feet together as though he were trying to stand so straight he would break his legs and be let go from this torture. A howl of laughter erupted from the Brothers as he stepped into the light, barring a bowl of popcorn. Ivan had to stifle a laughter of his own. Even after two hours, seeing Alfred in a French maid's uniform, bonnet, apron, stockings, Mary Janes and all, was a hilarious sight to see.

"Here's your damn popcorn!" Alfred snapped, throwing handfuls of the snack at the group sitting on the couch. With a scream of laughter from Raivis and Toris tossing some popcorn back, a battle ensued, which soon turned into a pillow fight which evolved into a tickle-fight. The bottles lie forgotten on the coffee table, the movie playing in the background just barely sounding over the laughter echoing through the once-silent halls of the mansion. By the end of it all, Ivan had the four of them in his arms, lying on his back, panting, on the plush carpet.

A few stray laughs sounded from all of them every once in a while until they'd all caught their breath and simply laid there, each staring off in a different direction. "... I'd... Better go get the rest of the snacks," Alfred reluctantly mentioned as he untangled himself from Raivis. He stood over them, and the sight he saw made him smile ever so slightly. Ivan tightened his grip on the three men in his arms, letting his eyes close and a smile of his own set on his face.

By the end of the day, Alfred was almost sad to leave. Almost. He glanced at himself in the full-length mirror in the front alcove as he waited for Ivan to relieve him of their deal. He turned, quickly, as he heard the other's boots approaching. "They're asleep," Ivan mentioned almost awkwardly.

"S-sounds good," Alfred replied, refusing to meet his eyes. Ivan watched his companion for a long moment before chuckling a bit. Suspiciously, Alfred finally raised his gaze to the Russian's and demanded, "What?"

"I cannot forget the look on your face when I showed you your uniform," Ivan answered, covering his mouth with his fist to keep from laughing.

However, instead of looking angry like Ivan had expected, Alfred smiled slightly. "... You're all a lot different then I thought you were," he murmured.

Ivan's eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat. "Y-yes, well..."

Alfred took a step closer. "So, was that why you wanted me to come here for the day?" he asked, staring up at Ivan with a raised eyebrow.

"Partly," the taller man answered in a breathy voice. A blush dusted its way over his cheeks as he met Alfred's challenge, taking a step closer as well. They were nearly chest-to-chest. After a few tense moments Ivan couldn't help himself; he grabbed Alfred's shoulders and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Surprise coursed through his body at how warm and inviting Alfred was. Likewise, Alfred found himself surprised at how cold and shut-off Ivan was, even with the scarf and gloves to warm him. The kiss lasted a few moments, eventually Ivan's lips melted and they began to move in a fluid motion against Alfred's until, slowly, they both pulled away.

Unable to open his eyes, Alfred breathed, "So tell me the truth; there's no such thing as Russian Checkers, is there?" His warm words washed over Ivan's cool lips and made him shudder.

"Net," he answered, shortly, before pulling Alfred in for another sweet, possessive kiss. 


End file.
